


Composure

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1362661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Has anyone ever sucked you off before?'" Giriko realizes Justin's never had a blowjob and corrects this situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Composure

Giriko almost regrets how long it takes him to think of it. It would have come up sooner, he’s sure, except that Justin is so  _happy_  to be fucked and so  _happy_  to suck him off that he doesn’t even think about reciprocation for the first few months. It’s not until they’ve fucked across every surface in the apartment, multiple times for some of them, that it occurs to him that Justin hasn’t ever  _been_  with another else, and since Giriko’s never gone down on him…

“Have you ever had a blow job?” Giriko asks. Justin’s in the other room, probably working at the table or something stupid like that, but if Giriko yells the priest will at least hear him if not clearly. There’s a sound of protest, and as Giriko sits up on the couch Justin emerges from the other room, pulling his headphones free.

“You know I can’t hear you from the other room,” the blond starts, but his earphones are out so Giriko doesn’t bother waiting for the rest of his complaint before repeating himself.

“Has anyone ever sucked you off before?”

Justin goes utterly still, eyes widening just slightly. It’s the lack of a blink in response that tells Giriko he’s scored a hit.

“Wh--” Justin doesn’t usually stumble over his words, either. “What?”

Giriko sets his hand against the back of the sofa and pulls himself up onto his knees so he can lean over the back and grin at Justin. “You’ve never had a blow job, have you.”

“No, I haven’t.” Justin rocks slightly backward, and blinks, and his composure is fully back in place. “Seeing as you’re the first person I ever  _kissed_ , I thought that would have been clear. Apologies, I would have been perfectly clear if I had known you were confused.”

“I wasn’t  _confused_.” Giriko comes up to sit on the back of the couch and swing his legs over so he can actually come forward towards Justin. “I just hadn’t thought about it. And I dunno what goes on at the Academy, maybe blow jobs before kissing is standard or something.”

Justin fights not to laugh but there’s still a choke in his exhale and he bites his lip. Giriko’s grin goes wider as he closes with the priest, and Justin doesn’t move away. “No. Your impression of the Academy is fascinatingly  _insane_ , someday I’d really like to know where you get your ideas.”

“So you’ve never had a mouth around your dick?” Giriko says, leaning into Justin’s personal space. The blond doesn’t step back or lean away; if anything he tips in a little closer. Giriko can feel his breathing slightly-too-fast against the edge of his collar.

“Are you volunteering?” Justin’s voice is impressively level.

“You gotta understand.” Giriko reaches out to ghost his hands against Justin’s waist. Even through the fabric of the priest’s clothing he can feel the way the blond shifts his weight, arches in in response to his touch. “I don’t generally blow guys. Fuck them, sure. Getting my own dick sucked is real nice, of course. But it’s not usually something I’m willing to do.”

“But?” Justin prompts. He turns his mouth so the word blows hot against Giriko’s skin. When the chainsaw shifts his weight his neck bumps just barely against the blond’s lips.

“But if you’ve never had one, I’m willing to make an exception for you.” His hands are a little harder on Justin’s waist now, a hold instead of the promise of a touch.

“How generous of you.” Justin’s fingers come up, land against Giriko’s wrists before sliding up the other man’s arms.

“Just want you to be real clear on the exception I’m making for you,” Giriko growls into Justin’s hair.

“So I don’t ask for it in the future?”

“So you understand the import of this  _now_ ,” Giriko corrects. “Just something everyone should experience at least once in his life. And if you’re with me, and you haven’t had one…”

There’s an implication, there, a hint of almost-commitment that Giriko barely wants to acknowledge even to himself, much less aloud, but Justin has the good sense to not call it out. His hands go still for a breath, but then they continue their slow friction up past Giriko’s elbows and around the other weapon’s shoulders, and Giriko tightens his grip so he’s actually lifting some of the blond’s minimal weight as well as locking Justin in place.

“Noted.”

Giriko pulls Justin in closer so he can feel the blond’s body against him. The younger man has entirely stopped wearing his Death Weapon attire in the apartment on the weekend, and he’s so hard that Giriko thinks he might be able to feel it even through the multiple layers of his priest uniform. His current thin jeans do nothing at all to hide Justin’s erection, and Giriko grins even as Justin audibly forces his breathing to stay level while the chainsaw pulls him in hard against his body.

“Intrigued?” he asks. “You certainly  _feel_  interested.”

Justin’s mouth hits Giriko’s neck, warm and wet, and there’s a momentary slick of tongue against his pulse point. Giriko laughs. “Guess that’s a yes.” He can feel Justin smile, the scrape of teeth over the sensitive skin of his throat. When he moves them out of the doorway and down the hallway proper Justin follows his lead with no protest, and when he backs the priest up against the wall the blond hums and sucks just under his ear, hard enough that Giriko suspects he’s leaving a mark.

“Okay.” Giriko lets go of Justin with one hand, catches his hand gently against the blond’s collarbones, just below his throat, so he can push the priest’s body flat against the wall. Justin is looking faintly hazy as he goes, his lips damp with moisture from licking at the chainsaw’s skin, and Giriko comes in to kiss him although he wasn’t intending to. The promised pleasure has made Justin unusually pliant, or maybe he’s just in one of his submissive moods; Giriko’s mouth has barely brushed over the blond’s lips when Justin opens his mouth to give the chainsaw entrance. Giriko takes the invitation, slides his tongue in against Justin’s, and the blond hums again in the back of his throat as his fingers find their way down the back of Giriko’s shirt to stroke over skin.

Giriko presses his mouth against the corner of Justin’s lips, comes sideways to taste against the blond’s jawline while he gets the priest’s pants open with the hand not pressing him back against the wall. It’s more difficult with one hand, but his thumb is resting just between Justin’s collarbones and he can feel the other’s pulse fluttering against his skin and he doesn’t quite want to pull away. It doesn’t slow him down much, anyway. He’s barely kissed his way to the edge of Justin’s neck when the fabric comes open, and then he does move his hand, hooks his fingers around the priest’s clothes so he can slide down to his knees and push the cloth free at the same time. Justin steps free as Giriko’s fingers brush his ankles, leaving him in just a t-shirt that clings to the sharp lines of his hips. Giriko shoves the other’s discarded clothing aside, brings his hands back to settle against those lines, and looks up at the blond’s face. Justin’s watching him, reaching out to touch the chainsaw’s shoulder with one hand and the back of his neck with the other. His mouth is red from the pressure of Giriko’s mouth and his eyes are still unfocused just from anticipation. It makes Giriko smile up at him, offering a lopsided smirk and tipping his head.

“You ready?”

Justin smiles faintly. His fingers drag through the longer strands of Giriko’s hair. The chainsaw would shiver if he didn’t fight back the involuntary reaction. “Sure, whenever you are.”

Giriko composes his expression so he can keep his sharp teeth out of the way, tightens his hold on Justin’s hips, and comes in to trail his tongue over the blond’s cock.

He’s expecting a moan, maybe, or a restrained exhale, depending on how hard Justin is fighting for self-control. He’s  _not_  expecting Justin to  _wail_ , not expecting the hand in his hair to make a fist or the blond’s hips to rock up hard enough that Giriko’s hold is insufficient to keep him steady for a moment.

“Woah!” Giriko draws back, more from shock than anything else. “Holy fuck, are you okay?”

Justin’s head is tipped back when he looks up, like the blond is staring up at the sky for some sort of divine assistance, and he can see his throat work around the strangled whimper that is apparently all Justin can offer by way of response.

“Justin?”

The priest swallows, takes a breath, and brings his head down to stare at Giriko. His eyes are wide and dilated, lips parted around his breath, and Giriko realizes what the reaction is a moment before Justin speaks.

“Oh  _god_  keep  _going_.” Any indication that Justin had any self-control is utterly gone; there’s nothing in his voice but trembling desire. Giriko can feel his desperation in the hand on his hair and for once there’s absolutely no part of him that wants to tease the other weapon. He brings his mouth back in, curls his lips around Justin’s cock without looking away from the blond’s face, and Justin  _collapses_. He groans lower than Giriko has ever heard, the sound pouring up from the depths of his body; Giriko’s more ready, this time, and actually holds him back flat against the wall, but Justin curls in around him, his fingers desperately scrambling for contact with Giriko’s skin and folding nearly in two around the chainsaw’s mouth. When Giriko actually  _moves_  his tongue, sweeps it up and around the blond’s length, Justin sounds like he’s being strangled, like he’s trying to inhale and moan at the same time and the air is getting trapped between his mouth and his throat. He coughs, chokes, and when Giriko slides his mouth back manages to get out “ _Giriko_.” It sounds desperate, either like he’s pleading for his life or exclaiming to a god, and the edge of wailing incoherence in the word goes straight to Giriko’s cock. He pulls away entirely and Justin takes the opportunity to suck in air and force his hands to loosen on Giriko’s clothes and hair.

“ _Fuck_  Justin,” he half-laughs. “If I had known you were gonna react like this I would have done this  _way_  earlier.”

Justin groans wordlessly and Giriko laughs again. He can feel the other shaking under his hands; he’s pretty sure that if he moved his hands Justin would just collapse in front of him.

“Here.” He shifts in closer, slides one hand down from Justin’s hip to his thigh so he can lift the blond’s leg. The priest resists for a moment, or maybe just takes a minute to realize what Giriko wants; then his hands steady a bit, take some of his weight so he can get his leg up over the chainsaw’s shoulder. The second is a little harder, mostly because Justin’s entire sense of balance appears to have evaporated along with his composure, but then Giriko’s got the other’s full weight on his shoulders and doesn’t have to focus on pinning Justin back against the wall.

“Okay.” He shifts, gets one foot flat on the ground and settles his hands on Justin’s waist to hold him steady. “Mind your head.”

Justin squeaks in surprise as Giriko starts to stand, but the chainsaw moves slowly so the priest has time to tip in forward to balance his weight on Giriko’s shoulders and duck so his head doesn’t hit the ceiling. Giriko tips his head, changes his angle, and reaches out to brace one hand on the wall before he comes back in to wrap his lips around Justin’s cock.

It’s for the best that he was prepared. Justin wails again, sounding like he’s dying or coming or both, and curls in so his weight shifts and Giriko nearly drops him. The hand on the wall is what saves them. Giriko makes a sound of protest, a half-muffled growl in the back of his throat, and Justin whimpers at the vibration but gets his hands properly braced on Giriko’s shoulders before the chainsaw moves again.

Giriko can feel the way Justin’s whole body trembles when he moves, this way. The blond is barely breathing, just taking short sharp gasps without any rhythm to them, and his fingers are clutching convulsively at the older man’s shoulders every time Giriko moves his mouth or his tongue. When the chainsaw closes his lips entirely around Justin’s length and sucks hard, the blond gasps and rocks forward into the contact, at least as much as he can; a hand moves from Giriko’s shoulder and Justin half-straightens so he can reach out and brace himself on the ceiling. Giriko laughs and dips his head in a little farther, pulling another groan from the blond, and this time Justin leans back entirely until his shoulders are against the wall and his head is tipped back. His legs are trembling, his feet keep sliding against Giriko’s shoulders like he’s seeking some sort of purchase to buck up harder or more, and his breathing and moans are inextricably linked, now, increasing in volume until Giriko wonders if their neighbors are getting an earful. Not that that’s enough to stop him or even get him to  _consider_  stopping. He breathes in deep through his nose, slicks his tongue hard against the underside of Justin’s cock, and when he sucks this time the blond jerks up into the contact and chokes on an inhale before come spills bitter all across Giriko’s mouth. Justin keeps shaking, his whole body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure and the adrenaline rush of sensation, so when Giriko finally pulls back and shifts to take Justin’s weight the priest’s arms do nothing at all to help support him.

It doesn’t matter much. Giriko is grinning, feeling like he’s won an award for Shattering Justin’s Composure, and the blond is so skinny it’s not even particularly difficult to get him down off Giriko’s shoulders. The priest looks a little like he’s in pain and a little like he’s been hit by a truck, but when he manages to focus his gaze on Giriko’s face he gives a smile that takes his expression from maybe-pain into utterly debauched pleasure and reminds Giriko that  _he_  hasn’t gotten off yet.

“Damn.” He leans in and Justin leans back to press against the wall as the chainsaw’s mouth skims against his parted lips. “Glad I got to be the first to do that.”

“Thought you didn’t give blowjobs,” Justin counters, although his voice is faint and lacks the bite his words frequently have.

“I make a lot of exceptions for you, kid,” Giriko offers with his mouth warm against Justin’s ear. He takes a half-step in, rocks his hips forward so his dick digs into Justin’s stomach through his jeans. “Hey,” he says, slow like it’s just occurring to him. “I think  _you_  give great blowjobs, too, don’t you?”

“You must be thinking of someone else,” Justin says, but his hands are pulling the front of Giriko’s pants open.

Giriko laughs. “I’m pretty sure no one’s had my cock in their mouth recently but you.”

“Mm.” Justin shifts his weight to slide his knee between the chainsaw’s legs. “That’s awfully close to tender, for you.”

“Shut up,” Giriko growls. Justin laughs and starts to slide down to his knees before Giriko grabs at his waist. “Here, wait a sec.” He pulls the edge of the blond’s shirt, peels it up over his head; Justin lifts his arms and lets Giriko strip the last of his clothing off.

“You want me naked?” he asks as he starts to go back down.

“Course.” Giriko reaches out without looking to brace himself on the wall so he can keep watching Justin settling himself as he works the chainsaw’s jeans down his legs. “You know I like seeing your skin.” Justin comes in to wrap his mouth around the head of Giriko’s cock, so when he hums in agreement the vibration settles warm and pleasant low in Giriko’s stomach. The chainsaw reaches out to wrap his fingers around the back of Justin’s head, not exerting pressure but just fitting his hand against the blond’s soft hair, and Justin looks up at him and smiles as much as he can with his mouth full.

Lack of experience notwithstanding, Justin is  _enthusiastic_  about giving blowjobs, and he has an inherent knowledge of what to do with his tongue and lips as he moves his head. Giriko purrs in satisfaction as Justin slides his mouth down over his length, shuts his eyes in pleasure for a moment before he makes himself look back down to watch the blond’s head moving over him. Justin is still watching him, blue eyes focused clear on Giriko’s face but still soft at the edges from the lingering effects of his orgasm. He’s beautiful, though Giriko is nothing like ready to actually tell him so. He just looks, and lets his hand stroke gently through Justin’s hair, and the sight of the younger man’s face and pale shoulders is nearly as effective as the warm friction of tongue and teeth and lips at pouring hot pleasure into his blood.

The priest is becoming really alarmingly good at giving head, or at least at matching Giriko’s preferences; Justin’s only been working on him for a few minutes before he moves his hand, grips the chainsaw’s hips to hold him steady and brings his mouth all the way down over Giriko’s cock, taking the other man down into his throat. That’s almost enough -- Giriko grunts and gasps for air -- and then Justin locks his lips tight around Giriko’s base and sucks and that  _is_  enough. Giriko’s vision veers into white and his fingers against Justin’s hair tense in time with the rest of his body as he comes into the blond’s mouth.

Justin swallows before Giriko has entirely recovered himself, slides back and away so he can smile properly before getting to his feet. Giriko doesn’t pull away when Justin leans in towards him and wraps his arms around the chainsaw’s neck, and when the blond comes in for a kiss they’re both smiling.


End file.
